To most, the art of language is simply a word or group of words on paper…to me it is my life support. For as long as I can recall I have lacked the ability to accurately convey my story, my thoughts or my feelings. Except when writing. Whether through journaling or poetry, writing has been my only healthy survival technique, as I have most certainly had my fair share of unhealthy ones.
Somehow, the act of playing with a single word of a single sentence of a single idea is my way of processing these seemingly futile thoughts that continuously race through my aching mind. At the same time, the act of completing an entry or poem is ultimately my way of accepting those processed thoughts. It is my therapy. I have found nothing more beautiful than toggling a few words of an intricately woven sentence until I am suddenly blessed with finding that one simple word that so precisely completes my thought, thus causing this overwhelming sense that it has finally become exactly how it was meant to be…that it has become perfect. Words, when used correctly, are an art of speaking the language of emotion being filtered through the heart…they are perfection.
Unfortunately, while I have spent my life using them to aid my survival, I have never taken the opportunity to share them with others. Until now. In part because I held onto an all consuming fear that no one would understand, that I would be judged, or that others would see no significance in anything I shared. Thus rendering my writing completely hollow and useless. Mostly though, I held onto a fear that no one would appreciate the beauty in the words themselves due to my inherently lacking ability to accurately convey my memories or feelings. Ultimately resulting in a page of empty words rather than my intention of creating something beautifully healing.
As previously mentioned, all of those fears were until recently as I have come to experience this enormous inner shift. I have come to realize that each of these fears are entirely baseless. Who cares if I am judged? Who cares if others find no significance in the words I share? The importance lies in remembering the impossibility of writing from the heart without a single person understanding, because I believe we all have the ability to relate to one another. I believe we all have the desire to relate to one another. I believe that we all have the need to relate. Maybe my experiences are not the same as those experienced by others, but I am certain there is something contained within the words I write that will stir a feeling deep within someone’s soul and I hope whatever I share results in aiding them in the way it has me…by caressing my heart with a promise of understanding…by whispering to my struggling soul of its power to achieve serenity…by paving that sought after road to transcendence.
So with that being said, I am officially opening the door to my struggles, failures, mistakes and successes by sharing previous writings and experiences, as well as those of my currently transpiring life. I thank you for joining me on my road and I look forward to receiving your reactions while hopefully hearing of your stories as well.